We are now finishing up our first full week of summer vacation, and in those few moments of clarity where I can sit back and observe, I see that I'm morphing into a big bundle of cluelessness, head shaking, frustration, and downright awe at the complexity of personality.
The last thing I want to do is stick my child into a nicely labeled box, but I really do feel that he has some "issue" with playing -- just easy-going, childlike, good-times playing. Snow will fall in July before you see him playing for any length of time in the dirt with trucks. My giving up of chocolate forever has a greater likelihood of happening than Aidan coming up with something creative to do on his own, and sticking with it. Give him a book to read -- fine. Give him some activity to figure out -- great. Give him structure -- he's in heaven. But say, "Go on and play?" Forget it.
In all honesty here, it's indeed frustrating. I just flat-out don't get it. The first few days of our summer vacation were difficult, with a lot of whining and exasperation (on both our parts). The other day, with a gigantic sigh, I decided to forgo my duties for the day and just play with the kids. It was fun, actually. The bike riding experiment in the park didn't work out so well, for within 2 minutes he gave up, saying his knees hurt. (I think it's the bike -- a hard-to-ride $10 piece of junk). Thankfully a huge "jungle gym" set-up was just down the path, so the kids and I played on that for quite some time (no imagination required -- it was all there for him), and then we walked farther down to peek through the bushes and trees at the quarry work down below. After a trip to the library, we made it home in time for lunch, an entire morning spent. I figured I would catch up on my ignored tasks in the afternoon, but even then we fell back into our old habit: "Mommy, I don't know what to do. I'm bored. I want you to play with me ..."
Finally I decided to call my sister-in-law, April, in the Midwest. She's a teacher, she's a mother of five children (twin girls and triplet girls), she home-schools the twins, and she just has this knack with kids. We had a great talk where I spilled my maternal guts -- about my frustration, my concerns (is this something to be concerned about?) and yes, my awe at how my boy is wired. I've never quite run across another child like this before, and since he's mine I have a responsibility to figure this out, or work with it, or something ... (Mama Bird, Mama Bird -- channeling Mama Bird ...)
In a nutshell, my boy craves structure. If I set up some kind of play situation for him, he'd be OK. But on his own? It's a challenge. If I got out the shovel and dug up dirt piles in the yard and created jumps and paths and whatever else, he could then get out his monster trucks and have a pretty good time. If I got out the Hot Wheels tracks and set up an elaborate system with jumps and tunnels, he could then get out his cars and play. If I got out the sidewalk chalk and started drawing something (something to do -- not just random pictures) he would then probably get the idea. But that's the catch -- I have to do it all. I have to be the imaginative one, I have to set things up, I have to get him going. And while I want my boy to have fun and to play, I don't want to have to do this all the time. I can't do this all the time. It's just not practical, for either of us.
I guess there's a part of me that thinks if I structure these carefree summer days now, he'll never get it. Is it a form of enabling, in a way? He can't go through life having someone set something up for him. And yet ... that seems to be how he's wired. So how do I manage this? In my conversation with April, she said it's actually OK to do this, at least for a while. She commented that we adults tend to expect too much of our little kids. They haven't been around on this earth very long to wrack up experience, or context, within which to play. Couple that with not being wired to do that in the first place, my boy does indeed have a challenge to contend with. Her advice to me was just to bite the bullet and figure that these next few weeks will be trying to teach him how to play. Set aside those dishes (again!) to teach him how to play with his pirates. Put the bills off another day to teach him how to create a world for his Rescue Heroes. Forget dusting; teach him how to build something with blocks. And then maybe, just maybe, after a week or two, he'll watch what I do and might begin to do it himself.
Ugh. I'm tired already just thinking about it. I love my boy fiercely, but during times like these I see how truly different we are. April suggested I create (with Aidan's help and/or direction) an Activity Chart -- list the activities he likes to do and put them on a chart of some kind, so when Grace is napping and I'm busy and he has nothing to do, he can go to the Activity Chart and see what he can do, put an X in the box, or whatever. I spoke to Aidan about this idea yesterday, and I was surprised at his response. The mere mention of this perked him right up; his little scientific brain started whirling. And -- gasp! -- the ideas started flowing. He got a pad and a pen and told me to write down his ideas, and we created a list of some of his favorite things to do. He even suggested we get a spinner, so the activity selection could be chosen that way, randomly, by spinning an arrow. I recalled our old game of Twister in the basement -- we could modify it for this chart. April said we could create this within the framework of 20 minute blocks -- that's all he needs. Darn -- 20 minutes will go fast! Outdoor time needs to be included, and she had the fabulous idea of setting up an obstacle course in the backyard -- again, something that I would need to do for the first few times, but hopefully he will then get the idea and be able to do it himself. Wow ...
My sister-in-law needs some sort of a medal. During our brief conversation on the phone (with 3 babies on her lap, she can only talk for so long) she said that the ideas were just overflowing in her head ... while mine felt quite empty. When I embarked on the motherhood journey, I had no idea it would involve anything like this. You deal with baby phases, and then when your kids get older they just play, right? I never dreamed I would produce a child who is wired this way. And yet ... what a child he is. He is absolutely priceless. Sure, it takes work -- a lot more work in ways I never dreamed of -- but I am just amazed at how different we all are. Aidan, April, myself ... just three figures in this recent scenario, all very different. Wow. It really is incredible.
And what did Aidan say to me first thing this morning?
"Mommy! Today we'll make the Aidan's Activity Chart! And you can get the spinner from the basement, and then we can put them in groups, and then ... and then ..."
God sure created an incredible little being.
Yes, I get frustrated and impatient and exasperated.
But I am so glad he's mine.
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